


Maybe More Than Friends

by Puppystars98



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 16:20:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30108711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puppystars98/pseuds/Puppystars98
Summary: He had felt it initially in a way you might if you were to get sick. A bit of a tickly throat and perhaps a sniffly nose. But you drink orange juice and you recover. Until maybe a week or so later and it hits you like a tidal wave; you are worn down and achy and you feel like you may never breathe properly ever again for the rest of your life.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Marauders & Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Kudos: 2





	Maybe More Than Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is my first work on here - hope you enjoy!
> 
> Chapter title is taken from Crazy Little Thing Called Love by Queen.

Sirius Black knew that he was completely and utterly fucked. Not in a forgotten-to-do-homework-and-McGonagall-might-implode type of fucked, but more of a deep rooted, self-professed, horrified type of fucked. He had felt it initially in a way you might if you were to get sick. A bit of a tickly throat and perhaps a sniffly nose. But you drink orange juice and you recover. Until maybe a week or so later and it hits you like a tidal wave; you are worn down and achy and you feel like you may never breathe properly ever again for the rest of your life.

Well, this had been playing on him for the best part of perhaps two years. Sometimes he was distracted, a giggly fifth year would catch his attention and he wold swoon off in the direction of her girlish scent. Other times, he was too busy making mischief with James to even think about a slight head cold that made him slightly dizzy when he stood up. Or sometimes he would follow Remus upstairs to the dormitory at the end of the day and the setting sun would catch in his amber coloured eyes and they would twinkle at him. So wondrously and beautifully. And Sirius would feel a tightness in his chest and an odd swooping sensation in his stomach.

The fluttering in his stomach was something which Sirius could not associate with nerves because he, Sirius, had never once suffered from _nerves_. Happiness, yes; anger, certainly. But Sirius was one to laugh in the face of danger. He let Remus be nervous. He preferred to be reckless.

Then the tidal wave finally hit one sunny afternoon in late September, lazing on the grounds by the lake. Sirius and James were, as usual, having some form of competition between them over who could appear more arrogant and self-righteous to their ever-present crowd of admirers. Peter lay beside them on his front, laughing heartily and cheering them on. Remus sat against the trunk of a large tree; a book propped open on his knees in front of him. James had enchanted a pile of leaves into a ball to play a game of catch. He threw the ball rather exuberantly, causing Sirius to run back several paces to catch it. In the process of doing so, he tripped over Peter and landed backwards onto Remus’s lap.

James roared with laughter, and Peter copied him.

Sirius turned around, prepared to make fun of a wet blanket Remus with a glint in his eyes. But the waves crashed over his head at his proximity to Remus. His back against his chest; sitting firmly in between Remus’s legs. The fluttering in his stomach erupted and something seemed to explode in his mind. Was he going to be sick? Perhaps so if someone did not speak soon.

‘Padfoot maybe look where you are going next time?’ Remus looked somewhat amused and the old frayed book which he had just managed to save, was being held above his head.

Sirius blinked.

Then blinked again.

So, this is how he came to realise he was fucked.

***

Remus began to wonder if Sirius constantly following him to the library to study or making excuses to always be near him was a new thing or whether he had simply never noticed it before. The more Remus was in close contact to Sirius, the more his breath caught in his throat. Any time Sirius shifted and his shoulder brushed Remus’s or their fingers touched as Sirius reached across to steal a piece of chocolate, Remus seemed to lose all ability to think. Or breathe. Or swallow. The latter sometimes making him dangerously close to drooling all over his friend. Perhaps not just literally.

Was friendliness all that this was? This strange longing and sparkling tension between them? Because when Remus looked at Sirius, all he could see was the glorious soft hair falling over Sirius face in waves. Or sometimes coming lose from its bun after Quidditch practice. The radiant energy Sirius’s smile brought to the room, though it had always been infectious, was somehow now captivating to Remus. It was as if Remus was enchanted; an invisible rope tying his eyes to Sirius’s face, to his mouth, his chest, and…

He didn’t dare let his mind wander too far. He began to think what if he had indeed been enchanted. He wouldn’t have put it past James to set this up as some kind of prank. Making Moony fall in love with Padfoot would of course be cause for hilarity inside the dorm.

But then he started to notice other small things. Like Sirius’s eyes also lingering for a fraction of a second too long on Remus’s face. His eyes burning holes in Remus’s book as he hid his face behind it. In those strange quiet library sessions when Sirius’s fingers seemed to sit for an extra moment on top of Remus’s over the chocolate, Remus began to wonder if it was perhaps not just him that felt this strange fluttering and swooping sensation inside himself every time they were alone together.

Bizarrely, this behaviour continued for weeks and Remus also wondered if Peter or James noticed any difference in their friends’ dynamic. Remus was almost certain Sirius did not act this way with either of them; unless he did? As he came to think of it, Sirius was a larger than life character. It was not strange for him to grab his friends in a hug, or even occasionally slap a slobbery kiss onto their cheeks. He would even sometimes link arms with Peter or hold onto James’s hand as he bounced down to breakfast in the mornings.

But no, thought Remus. This was something different altogether.

It started to bother him often as the weather turned cooler and the leaves began to fall from the trees. Pumpkins were lit up and stationed throughout the Great Hall, and this sense of longing between Sirius and Remus only increased. Remus made the executive decision to confront his friend. He did not like the idea, nor did he very much like confrontation of any kind. But whatever was happening, Remus needed to know.

***

Sirius was lurking beside Remus, having followed him to another of many library sessions. Sirius didn’t necessarily need to study; everything came to him pretty naturally whereas Remus worked hard to achieve his top marks. So, under the pretence of wanting to succeed highly in his NEWT exams at the end of the year, Sirius had taken the opportunity to be close to Remus.

This day in particular had been cold and nasty, with gale force winds that cut at any part of exposed skin to the outdoors. In the library, however, Sirius was stifling hot. And it was not from the searing heat he felt on his skin when Remus’s elbow had brushed his arm as he reached across the table for a book. Sirius did his usual act, trying to bump into Remus as many times as he could and accidentally on purpose reaching for the bar of chocolate at the same time.

Remus stretched – and Sirius observed it as a magnificent sight. It gave him an excuse to admire Remus’s body; his shirt stretching tight over his arms and chest. Sirius’s hungry eyes could not help but imagine Remus stretched as such under himself, Sirius ready to devour him. But all too soon it was over and, as with every other night, it was often the cue for Remus to pack up his books and retreat to the common room.

‘I am so _bloody hot_ tonight, that library –‘

Sirius started as soon as the library door closed behind them but was cut short as Remus turned on him. Remus was inches from Sirius’s face. He was wearing an expression that gave a very Remus-ish look to his features. So much so that Sirius could not help but grin in response.

‘Are you following me?’ Remus asked accusingly.

‘I – er – why would you ask that?’ Sirius was entirely certain that Remus, with his perfectly wonderful canine senses, could definitely hear the thudding of his heart against his ribcage.

Remus squinted and searched Sirius’s face. Sirius knew what he was searching for. He had been as obvious as possible, wanting more than ever for Remus to reciprocate his feelings. But Remus was so… Remus-y that he never knew if what he was feeling was being returned. His friend was so used to covering up emotions and withholding buds of hope in his life that he would never set free something so mundane and pitiful as a _crush_. And especially, though it pained Sirius to think it, a crush on him.

His eyes met Remus’s and he willed him to understand. Understand that, Merlin, Sirius was bloody fucking obsessed with him. That as he lived and breathed, Sirius Black was completely and utterly _besotted_ with Remus Lupin. He didn’t know how, he didn’t even precisely know when. But he knew a year ago when he snogged Marlene McKinnon behind the troll tapestry on the seventh floor opposite the library, his thoughts had strayed to Remus; and a year before that, when Alice Prewett was mercilessly flirting with him, that he’d had a second’s thought that if it were Remus going to those efforts then he would have very happily responded.

And then it was all too much for Sirius, the brooding in his eyes and Remus biting his lip in concentration waiting for Sirius to crack under his accusatory glare. And Sirius was not usually the type to give in. He was stubborn, and childishly so as Moony so often liked to remind him. But – _oh god_ – the flutter of _nerves_ was back.

All of sudden, Sirius had let out a grunt of frustration and pushed Remus by the shoulders, guiding him over to the wall where he knew (thanks to Marlene McKinnon) there was a private space behind the troll tapestry. And he kissed Remus, roughly and unexpectedly, twisting the front of his friend’s robes in his hands as he pulled him closer. He was pleasantly shocked the next second when Remus, instead of shoving him away, grabbed Sirius greedily by his hips, returning the kiss with a fierce passion.

***

Remus’s brain was sluggish at registering what was happening. It felt so right and so gloriously perfect to be standing sucking Sirius’s face off, his teeth nibbling on Remus’s lip. It wasn’t until it happened that Remus realised exactly what the longing between the two was and he was so wrapped up in how utterly, incredibly, wonderful this exact moment was.

Then his thoughts crept up on him – and this was Sirius. Sirius who he was snogging right now, Sirius whose lips were now pressing down the side of Remus’s neck. And to his complete horror, it seemed to be Remus’s muffled groan coming from his own throat. Then he opened his eyes and the back of the tapestry swam in front of him, and he felt his hand twisted in Sirius’s hair. And then Sirius’s lips were returning to Remus’s mouth, his face even more beautiful and amazing when he was this close.

Before he knew what he was doing, Remus stepped back and loosened his clutch of Sirius’s now messed up hair. Sirius’s lips searched for a second longer before realising they were not landing anywhere, and his eyes too flew open. His remarkable grey eyes, twinkling and sparkling as if they were stars in a dark sky. They were roving all over Remus’s face, landed briefly on the red patch on Remus’s neck, and then returned finally to his eyes.

Remus was now holding him at an arm’s length, his hands resting on Sirius’s shoulders with one of Sirius’s hands still sitting lightly on his hip. It seemed to sear through the fabric of his top, burning his skin a raw red. Sirius was panting ever so slightly, either from the kissing or from the exhilaration of _snogging_ one of his best friends, Remus was not sure. Perhaps Sirius himself didn’t even know.

‘What are we doing?’ Remus asked.

A smirk grew on Sirius’s face. ‘I thought that was rather obvious Moony, no?’

In that instant, Remus, who was not in the mood to be joked about, dropped his hands from Sirius’s shoulders and shifted to his right so he was not looking at Sirius.

‘Remus, I didn’t mean…’ Sirius’s voice trailed into an awkward whisper. He had also shifted and had dropped his hand from Remus’s hip. Remus noted the use of his first name and the burning spot on his side seemed to dull.

‘It’s okay. I wasn’t expecting… _that_ ,’ Remus gestured around, looking back up at Sirius.

‘And you think I did?’ Sirius let out a bark of laughter, ‘Trust me Moony, my plans to seduce you did not involve snogging behind a tapestry of big ugly green trolls.’

‘Seduce me?’ Remus raised an eyebrow.

If Sirius had been in the habit of blushing, Remus assumed he may have done it then. But of course, the only Black blood Sirius had inherited was the fact that Black’s do not blush. Instead, Sirius grinned and winked at him. Remus rolled his eyes and unwillingly gave into the smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

‘Okay, but what? How?’ the logical side of Remus, the side that loved theories and words and knowing exactly what was going to happen and why it was happening, was going into overdrive. He wanted explanations, reasons, a _theory_.

‘Honestly Moony, I kind of just want to snog your face off right now, so I’m sure we can find time to explain later.’

Remus opened his mouth to argue some more, to get answers from Sirius; but he was too late. Sirius had already closed the gap between them, and his mouth was smothering Remus’s once more. Remus gave in because, well, he was hardly going to resist the image that had played so often on the side lines of his imagination for so long now. Because here he was, fingers tangled again in Sirius’s hair, Sirius’s greedy hands clutching onto his back, pulling them closer and closer. They were moulded together and Sirius’s five o’clock shadow was rubbing so intensely and amazingly against Remus’s lips and chin that it was all he could do to melt further into him.


End file.
